Chapter 33
He smiles at me then—that smile—the one that makes heat pool low in my stomach and my steps catch just slightly.
In the past five weeks, I’ve been pulled in every direction: the end of the semester, my thesis, now-mandatory surf lessons with Theo and the girls, and Dr. Kymbert’s research project.
But my one constant? Holden. He’s done exactly what he promised—stayed by my side through every high and low, every snarky comment (of which there have been plenty).
He waits for me after dives. Texts between classes. Shows up exactly when I need him.
“My girl is wicked smart,” he says, pulling me in by the hips, leaning until our noses touch. “We’ll work on your closing statement, though.”
I giggle, placing my hands on his chest for balance—even though I don’t need it. I know he’s got me.
“You’ve got a real talent for making everything sound like a peer review,” I murmur, my words brushing his lips.
He smirks. “Is that a compliment?”
I shake my head slowly, my curls grazing his jaw. “Not even a little.”
His smile deepens right before he closes the gap, kissing me softly—the kind of kiss I now know means proud.
Because, yes, we’ve also had our fair share of make-out sessions these past few weeks and, as the serious, composed scientist I absolutely always am, I’ve compiled a working hypothesis: Holden kisses how he feels.
Sometimes, it’s urgent. Desperate. Enough to make my knees buckle and my spine forget its purpose. Other times, like now, it’s gentle. Reverent. Full of all the things he hasn’t found the words for yet—but that I’m learning to read anyway.